


Get With Him Through Me

by strider_heichou_booty



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Relationship Advice, Stridercest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 18:20:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3906121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strider_heichou_booty/pseuds/strider_heichou_booty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're in love but you're sure he's straight. Your brother wants to help, but he's the slut of your year. You don't know how it's going to go down because this wasn't the type of help you were thinking of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Your name is Dirk Strider and let's face it, you're hopeless. You sighed in defeat as you shut your locker, science book in hand. You tucked the heavy mass of pages under your armpit and stood up straight, turning to your left. There he stood, the angel of your dreams. Jake English, transfer student from only God knows where with a perfect tan and an ever present grin that made him even more clueless to how much you loved him. As cringeably obsessive as that sounds. Your stomach suddenly filled with butterflies and your head started to spin just as you realized you were in fact staring at him. He, of course, didn't notice and continued to stuff a number of books and loose pages into his A locker. It was to your fortune that he got that specific one and he was tall, for you got a perfect view of him leaning and/or reaching to it from your cozy C locker. The downfall you ask? There just so happens to be an unidentifiable stain on the ground you would rather not kneel on and bending down to your locker is unavoidable. Having the finest ass in the year group didn't really help either; everyone looked at it while you were hunched over, all except for - you guessed it - the very owner of your heart. Again you huffed. It's not like you decided to wear skinny jeans that day in hopes of him sneaking a peak while you pretended not to notice. But no matter what way you rocked your hips or arched your back even the slightest, no reaction. Amist your musing, Mr English himself turned his head and smiled at you. Wait, at YOU? You did a doubletake and your heart was in your mouth when he didn't look away. 'Act cool, act cool...' you told yourself, clearing your throat subtly.  
"Hello, Dirk!" he beamed at you. The sun could shine out of his ass and you'd still stare at those pearly white teeth.  
Nodding coolly, you leaned against the metal doors of your column of lockers. "'Sup English."  
"Oh, right!" he fixed his glasses and folded his arms, trying to look casual. "I'll be cool and call you Strider."  
"You dork," you rolled your eyes dramatically, keeping a straight face. On the inside however, your whole body lurched in utter joy at how cute he was being.  
"Come on, I tried didn't I?" he feigned a pout at you and slumped his shoulders. Wow, you really did want to kiss him right then. Instead you just leaned away from the lockers and flicked his nose. From the past month's extensive reasearch, all signs seemed to point to him being straight.  
"Tried, I'll give you that much," you turned around and started walking away, your hips swinging from force of habit due to the skinny jeans. You could have sworn he watched, he did hesitate to run after you. "You'll need work though."  
"Work swork, I'm perfectly happy with my coolness!" he straightened his shirt collars triumphantly once he caught up to your side.  
"You? Cool? Please, spare me the dishonesty," you shook your head in jest, crossing your arms over your chest with your book between torso and limbs.  
"Gadzooks, I can be and am just as cool as you like to think you are,"  
"I don't think it, English," you stated coyly, pushing your shades up the bridge of your nose. "I bro."  
"... did you just use a blasted bropun on me?"  
"Maybe, maybe not,"  
"Golly... and you say I'm the dork," he chuckled, shaking his head just as you both exited the locker area and entered the corridor. Damn, that laugh made your knees feel like jelly.  
"You still are, no getting away from that,"  
"Listen here, my Strider chum," an arm draped itself around your shoulders and it took everything in you not to lean into him.  
"Listening," you hummed unintentionally at the sudden closeness. Inhaling his smell made you dizzy and your eyes could have gone full-on anime sparkles at any given moment.  
He craned his neck so his head was level with your ear, making you tense up. "At least I'm not in denial about it." With his signature double pistols and a wink, he leaned away and unhooked from you. About to call him back and ask questions, you realized he had turned to your science room and walked in. You grumbled to yourself and followed in the doorway.  
The class consisted of twenty one students, three from each of the seven base classes in your year, and today you were all in the lab. The seating plan was in alphabetical order, so naturally you were halfway across the room from Jake. This frustrated you greatly but what could you do? It's not like you could just up and change the first letter of your surname as you pleased. Anywho, you made the most of it. Getting another grin from your crush as you wandered past him, you made your way to your seat near enough to the back. Also due to alphabetical order, you shared a four person unit with Aranea Serket and Meenah Peixes. Which was pretty distracting seeing as all they did was bicker. If Meenah wasn't prodding Aranea in the boob with the eraser of her pencil, Aranea was lecturing Meenah on the importance of a neat desk. You sunk into your seat on the far left and crossed your arms on your space of the desk, chin on your forearms. Meenah was clearly annoying Aranea as obnoxious laughter echoed from three seats away. Blocking it out, you stared ahead of you at the white board. Someone had left out the markers so naturally dicks were drawn all over it, accompanied by immature curse words and ridiculous drawings of some of the teachers. You just had to be put in the class of misfits...  
"Alright, alright, settle down!" a deep lispy voice called out over the sea of chatting students. It took two more attempts to get everyone to actually shut up, but just as the teacher reached his desk and set his books down, in slinked the final occupant of your unit.  
"Late," he didn't even have to look up to know who it was. "Again."  
"Sorry Mr Captor, but I have a pretty good excuse this time," none other than your own twin brother Dave stood in place a few meters away from the door. Upon better inspection, his jeans were hitched awkwardly and his laces were untied. Not again. "An excuse fit for the gods, unworthy by Earth's beheldment itself, bestowed unto you by yours tru-"  
"Do you have a note, Mr Strider?" the teacher - Professor Psiimon Captor - cut across him boredly.  
"... no,"  
"Then I don't care what your excuse is, journal on my desk and sit down,"  
"Great," Dave huffed and slid said journal across the desk before shuffling his way through the rows to your unit. He plopped down beside you and started rifling through his bag none too quietly, humming carelessly.  
"Honestly, you couldn't have been five minutes earlier?" you turned your head so your cheek was against your arm and you were looking at him.  
"Nah, had business to take care of," he just shrugged. "My time is a valuable thing, Dirky. I'd rather do what I like rather than show up on time to this bullshit."  
"Would said thing you like have to do with that hickey on your neck?" you stated like it were nothing new, poking the fresh red mark on your brother's jugular vein.  
"Fuck, I told Gamzee no marks," he hissed in displeasure, swatting at your hand.  
"Gamzee? Seriously? How desperate are you this month?"  
"Hey, I don't pester you about your sexlife. Wait what am I saying? You don't even have one."  
"Shut up, I rather that than be a slut like you."  
"Oh how dare I forget, you're saving your sweet virgin butthole for Mr Adventure over there," he spoke frustratedly while chucking crumpled up page after page over his shoulder from the deep abyss that was his bag.  
"I'm not a virgin," you shook your head, regretting ever telling him about liking Jake in the first place. "And fuck you. With something sharp."  
"Whatever man, who says that hasn't been done," Dave ran his tongue over his upper lip while waggling his eyebrows.  
"That's disgusting,"  
"You know what else is disgusting? The fact that you're a fridgit."  
"I am not a fridget," you said a little louder than intended, making Nepeta up ahead of you twist around for a few seconds then turn back into her seat giggling.  
"Oh are you not?" he gave you a look of lazy disbelief.  
"Duh. If I've had sex then obviously I've been frenched before."  
"And who was it that rammed their tongue down your throat?"  
"... Cronus," you sighed shamefully, remembering Spin The Bottle at the previous end of year blow-out party the Peixes held.  
"Oh man, that shit was gross," Dave snickered immaturely beside you.  
"Ugh, tell me about it," you groaned, flicking through the pages of your science book with your chin now propped up on your other upturned palm once Professor Captor cleaned the whiteboard.  
"Hmm... I've got an offer for you," he finally stopped rooting around in his bag.  
"This can't be good but go on."  
"I'll help you get in English's pants-"  
"No."  
"You didn't even let me finish."  
"I already know what you're getting at here and it's still a no. I don't need your help."  
"C'mon, hear me out at least," he poked your head a couple of times then shook your shoulder just to be more annoying. You gave an irritated grunt.  
"Fine, what's your offer?"  
"OK, so I'll get you in there with Jake if..."  
"If...?"  
"You let me look in your book with you for the rest of the term, I can't find mine,"  
"That's such a hard bargain Dave, I don't know how I'll possibly live that one up as repayment. Might as well be taking my left kidney right now, we've got some serious business up in this."  
"Shut the fuck up, this will determine the fate of my results being an A or an F."  
"An A is way out of your reach, be realistic."  
"OK fine, It could be the difference between an F and a D."  
"You do get enough D already."  
"See? My point exactly. So lend me your book and tutor me and I'll help with your boy pro-pros."  
"Woah, since when did tutoring you become part of the deal?"  
"Since you said the book wasn't enough, now come on, make the deal with me."  
"... fine," you gave in and nudged your book over to the middle of the table.  
"Lifesaver," he grabbed your head to place a noisy smooch to your forehead while choking back fake tears then leaned on the desk, half facing you with his I'm-too-cool-for-emotions look in full force again. You rolled your eyes. This would be a long semester full of regret, sweat and tears. You could feel it.


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of your classes flew by relatively quickly with little or no homework. The sweet sound of the last bell before lunch rang through your ears and you shoved your Maths book, pencil case, copy and journal into your bag. A blond mop of hair made a beeline across your path to the door and you barely caught the words "Car park in fifteen minutes". You groaned, having been supposed to eat with Roxy and Jane that day. The Crocker girl had made cookies and insisted on you trying them. And when she said something would be done, it'd damn well be done. Anything she said sweetly could end up a death threat if one crossed her, you knew this first hand. Nonetheless, you headed to your locker to dump your morning books and collect the afternoon ones. Just as you swirled around, an arm linked into yours and started tugging you towards the canteen. You stumbled over your own feet for a couple of steps before realizing who had their hold on you.  
"LaLonde, LaLonde, hold up," you planted your feet firmly in place, making Roxy lose balance and flail at the sudden stopping.  
"What's the dealio, DiStri?" she whined at you, turning around with big pink eyes and pouty lips. "Janey's already in there and you're holding us up! I've totes got the munchies rn, Imma starve soon."  
"I uh... I've got something to do, I'll eat with you tomorrow," you pulled your arm to yourself and shrugged vaguely, already taking a few steps backwards.  
"Huh?! But, you promised ya big weenie!"  
"Get Crocker to save me a cookie or something, I'll find you later," you turned and broke into a light jog away from her before she could ask anything else. Although humpy, she continued to the canteen and accepted that you weren't joining her. Thank fuck she didn't follow you.  
The sky was clear outside, the sun shining down mercilessly. Students only went down to the car park for makeouts or blowjobs, maybe both in that order on a good day, so this was practically Dave's playground. You leaned against the wire fence closest to the school building and shoved your hands in your jeans pockets, the sleeves of your orange hoodie rolled up to your elbows. All the parking spaces were empty as per usual; the newer car park up front was more popular with the staff. Back here was no-man's land usually occupied by the lesser known peer groups. The painfully stereotypical emo kids would take the shaded corner and bob their heads along to Secondhand Serenade or Hawthorne Heights, the stoners would take the opposite corner and smoke whatever they could get their hands on, the other corner nearest to the school would be owned by the weeaboos you shamefully used to sit with in Elementary School while the final corner - the one you were situated in - was more often than not abandoned. Last but not least was a kind of alleyway between the school and the annex where Dave and whoever got their paws on him would fraternize. It wasn't only him of course, there were others who engaged in all that coitus, only it was Dave who was most notable for you.  
Speaking of which, you drew your phone out of your hoodie pouch and unlocked the screen. Exactly 12:30. Dave was usually notorious for perfect timing, where was he? You sighed and tilted your head back, a faint clang of metal shaking behind your head. A slight breeze rustled your hair, making you close your eyes and hum contently while the sun graced your cheeks. This weather really brought out your signature Strider freckles against your usually milky skin. You were dragged from your thoughts by the sound of footsteps on pavement, making you open your eyes and look in the direction of their origin. Your brother padded towards you, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand as he emerged from the alleyway. Rolling your eyes, you stepped away from the fence.  
"About time," you commented boredly.  
"Pssh, it's only... what time is it?" his voice was a bit on the husky side, telling you he had obviously been giving someone head again.  
"Twelve thirty-three."  
"Three minutes, Dirk. So much of a difference."  
"That's three minutes I could have spent eating one of Janey's cookies, Dave dearest."  
"Whatever," he gave you a dismissive wave. "I'm being seen with you and that's more than you'll get from some cookie."  
"Yeah but have you tried one of her cookies? Oh sorry, I forgot, she hates your guts from the last five times you tried sucking her dad off, you wouldn't get one even if you begged."  
"Don't bring that up again, I was this close last time," he held up his index finger and thumb about an inch away from each other. You scoffed and stuffed your hands into your hoodie pouch.  
"Look, what was the point of us coming back here?" irritation was evident in your voice. You really did hate his antics at times.  
"Oh, privacy really."  
"This is private to you?"  
"Well it's not the canteen where anyone and everyone can listen in on all the personal questions I'll ask in this d.m.c. we're about to have."  
"... what the fuck do we need to have a deep meaningful conversation about? All our deal was was that I'd help with your science if you give me a hand with Jake. What's there to question about?"  
"Jeez, how dense are you?" he rolled his eyes at you and gestured for you to follow him as he started off in the direction of the nearest corner. Reluctantly you followed, perching yourself on the edge of the curb once he did the same.  
"OK, so... fire away with these questions," you crossed your arms, elbows on your thighs. "I wanna get this over with."  
"Alright," he cleared his throat, getting his voice back to normal again. "What level of contact are you and wonder-shorts on?"  
"Uh... he's put his arm around my shoulders?"  
"That's it? Not even kissing?"  
"... Of course not kissing, if we were doing that I'd be long past needing help."  
"Fuck, you aren't even at first base."  
"Wow, thanks for pointing that out captain obvious. Maybe, just maybe, that's why it's bugging me so damn much?"  
"Don't get snippy with me, I'm trying to help here."  
"Doing a pretty shit job so far."  
"Rude. Anyway, you needa get his attention."  
"We talk a lot? He actually keeps a freakish amount of eye-contact sometimes..."  
"Not that kind of attention, dingus. I mean drooling over you kinda attention."  
"How? I've tried the skinny jeans and doing my hair different, nothing's worked."  
"Ah, you sweet innocent novice. Gotta do more than just dress hot."  
"... what do you mean?"  
"Play up the part. Make him think dirty things about you, y'know? Dirty distasteful things he wouldn't want his grandma knowing he thinks. Bonerific tent-pitching on the campsit that is Jake English's crotch."  
"Again, how?"  
"You know... bite your lip or suck your on fingers when he looks at you or something."  
"But wouldn't that be... well, fucking awkward in the middle of a conversation?"  
"Yes. That's why you don't do that."  
"... you've lost me."  
"Do it in class. Or when he's talking to someone else. Just distract him. And his dick in general."  
"OK... but what do I do after that?"  
"See how it goes then get back to me. But for now, go get your cookie or whatever," he patted your shoulder then got to his feet again, speedstepping back to the alley. You sat there for a few minutes more, thinking over his words. Nodding to yourself, you got up and started your return trek to the school - one of the stoners across the way was giving you the eye. This was going to be a challenge, but you were willing to face it. The only thing that bugged you was that getting Jake's attention in Dave's suggested fashion would be purely physical... Maybe getting Jake's emotional attention to your level of affection for him could be a focus for after? Yeah, you could deal with that. The plan actually sounded like it could work. But you would put it into action the next day - it needed more development and you needed to prep yourself. So off to the canteen you went.


	3. Chapter 3

The apartment was abnormally quiet at half three that day. The TV was off and the futon was left unclaimed. Finding it a bit odd, you looked around but in the end shrugged it off, heading to the hall. Dave made a beeline for the fridge, opening it and nabbing a bottle of AJ before any of the swords in the appliance could clatter out. You ran a hand through your hair and exhaled calmly. Jake had been on your mind all day and frankly it was exhausting... Not that you didn't like thinking about him, but thinking about how to get with him was rather trivial. Either way, you approached the bathroom, noticing small amounts of steam swirling out from under the door. Maybe Bro was having a shower? That'd explain his absense from the living room. Just as you settled on that, the bathroom door opened.  
"And you are certain we would not have been heard?" a sophisticated masculine voice you recognized spoke over the extractor fan.  
"Positive. Why d'ya doubt me, Pops?" the constantly husky voice of your older brother met your ears next, just as you came face to taut chest with Mr Egbert. His steely blue eyes widened and he stiffened noticeably, his dark hair sopping wet and disheveled while his broad clean-shaven figure was only half covered by a white towel.  
"Because one of your brothers is right infront of me, Broderick," he kept his voice calm and collected, but his drawn together eyebrows told you something else. You weren't even that surprised, it was just him who thought it was a big deal.  
"The fuck?" out popped Bro's head of drenched blond hair and stubble, his shades off and his towel thrown carelessly over his shoulder. He wasn't even attempting to hide the fact he was stark naked. "Dirky, ya home early, where's the fire?"  
"Dave's in the kitchen," you rolled your eyes without bothering to answer or ask and stepped around the two men, one all skittish like a schoolgirl getting caught wearing her first push-up bra while the other simply looked to your twin. Dave of course was eyeing Mr Egbert's carefully looked after body from behind his shades. You could tell.  
Slinking into your room with complete dismissal for what you just witnessed, you closed the door over and ran a hand through your hair. Squeezing your eyes shut, you slipped your shades and backpack off and tugged your hoodie off over your head, dropping the garment to the floor and leaving your shades pushed up into your hair. Shoes kicked off and belt undone, you flopped face down onto your bed with your back slightly arched under the white t-shirt still hugging your form. You inhaled the sleepy smells of your pillow and hummed lowly, nuzzling the feather filled case. Your arms snaked under the pillow and clutched it to your head, your knees bent and ankles crossed. You were so comfortable you could have nodded off...  
"Sticking your ass up in the air like that could give people ideas, y'know," none other than Dave sauntered into the room, subconsciously disrupting your relaxation. With a flat grunt, you just wiggled our hips and in turn your ass at him, in as much of a childish move as his. He snorted and situated himself in the swivel chair by the desk with the turntables on it. Blowing a rather obnoxiously prolonged raspberry, he kicked away from the desk and spun in the chair a few times.  
"Could you not?" you mumbled into your pillow, your nerves already being gotten on.  
"Meh. Bored," he took that moment to kick off harder. "Weeee."  
"Would you mind being bored quieter?"  
"I do mind though."  
"Asshole."  
"You have no idea."  
"Look, I don't know about you but I'm tired here and it'd be nice if you shut the fuck up or got out and made your noise in the living room. Or the roof. Preferably the roof."  
"Nomeo, bromeo. Can't go out there."  
"And why not?"  
"Because," almost on cue, a low moan eminated from the living room. "The men are having noisy makeouts and it'd be a bit rude of me to watch. Shame on you for lack of manners Dirk, shame on you."  
"As if you don't want to watch them," you scoffed, sitting up. If you were both condemned to your room and he wasn't going to shut up, you might as well make a compromise. "Look, what'll it take for you to give me at least five minutes of silence?"  
"Hmm... tutor me with your sciencey crap. If I don't have a degree in quantum physics by the end of this session, I will cry loudly on your side of the room for three hours."  
"Please fucking don't," you rolled your eyes, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Hastily, you tugged the non-buckled end of your belt over so you could close the functional accessory. Dave scooted himself over to you as you leaned towards your bag, dragging it up onto your lap. He edged forward, elbows on his knees while you pulled the zipper open to retrieve your science book and notes copy, only to fling the backpack halfway across the room again.  
"OK, so what're we doing?" he peered at the pages as you flicked through them, the print and pictures merging together in a rush of colours.  
"What do you need help with?"  
"... uh."  
"I take that as all of it."  
"Yup."  
"Great," you stated flatly, settling on the chemical bonding chapter. "So, atoms. They've got positive protons and neutral neutrons in the nucleus and negative electrons in the shells around the nucleus. The shells can only hold certain amounts of electrons though. The most inner shell holds two, the other ones around that hold eight. You follow?"  
"... shells, whaaa?"  
"... The cirlce thingies around the red and blue thing in the middle."  
"Oh. OK, I follow," he slowly nodded, his eyebrows progressively knitting together. If he was getting stuck this early on, you had no hope for him. Either way, you did your best to explain how ionic and covalent bonding work, dumbing it down where necessary. Having expected him to take the piss, you were genuinely surprised when he asked questions actually relevant to the topic. He shifted onto the edge of the bed at your side after a while, getting a better look at the book. Instinctively you turned to him more, your knee touching his unintentionally. Wow, you were actually getting somewhere with this tutoring.  
Twenty or so minutes passed and to your fortune Dave had chemical bonding in the bag. Or at least he let on very well that he did.  
"That's it done really," you closed the book, setting it horizontally on your thighs. "We can pick up on the next chapter tomorrow."  
"Easier than the way Captor taught it," he sat back, his arm extended out from his side and behind you to rest his palm on the mattress.  
"Yeah, he just uses longer words and talks quicker," you reached forward to set the book on your bedside table, only to feel something warm on your back. Glancing over your shoulder with an eyebrow quirked, you found that it was his hand on you. Even though you were looking, he proceeded to trace your spine, making you shift awkwardly while sitting up. "Uh... what're you doing?"  
"Well, I figure I'll help you with your plot to have English swooning over you since you tutored me just there."  
"OK... and why are you touching me?"  
"Can't exactly study the art of seduction, Dirk," he lowered his voice and moved closer to you, his hands finding your waist. You stiffened considerably, thinking over his words in silence.  
"Dave, you're not saying we should... are you?" your voice cracked momentarily when his lips pecked at your neck.  
"If I am?" he whispered smoothly, tracing the base of your ribs and lightly nosing the side of your neck. This couldn't be good.


	4. Chapter 4

Your name is Dave Strider and you were dabbling at what your reputation says you do best. Only... with your brother. You weren't sure if he was all for the idea of makeouts but there was no harm in trying. You hoped. You actually doubted strongly. But nonetheless you were going to do it.  
You slid your arms around Dirk's waist, kissing at where you knew his sweet spot would be. Your assumption was confirmed when he gasped quietly. His hands went to your wrists and he hung his head, pushing at your hands lightly but nowhere near enough to pry you or anyone away.  
"Dave..." he breathed, eyebrows knitting together. Cute.  
"Mmh?" you hummed in a way that made him shudder slightly.  
"Is this... shit, is this necessary?"  
"Absolutely," you pulled him onto your lap and lowered a hand to slide under his shirt, pressing against his back.  
"C-could you not just show me this stuff?" he tried to shift a bit further down your leg, obviously avoiding your crotch.  
"What do you think I'm doing?" your voice came in an unintentional purr while tracing the centreline of his stomach. Shit, you never realized he actually kept himself this toned until now.  
"Nnh... talking me through it would be a better option, you know," he was biting the inside of his cheek as he spoke, his abs tensing under your touch. You just chuckled and let your hand venture up his chest.  
"I can do that too, but education is always better with pictures," you muttered against his jugular vein before placing tiny bites along it. He moaned softly when you ran a finger over one of his nipples, something that you definitely wanted to hear more of. "Oh, ya like that Dirk-a-Dirk?"  
"Sh... shut up..." the threat came halfheartedly and one of his hands resided on your elbow in surrender. With a small smirk you put your thumb and index finger on either side of the same nipple you had given attention to just moments before, squeezing it lightly. He leaned his back into your chest and gave a small curse, tilting his head back onto your shoulder.  
"Still wanna hear you saying you like it," you whispered into his ear with a substance of mischief to your voice, your otherwise free hand moving to rest on his hip. You heard him swallow and you admired his Adam's Apple bobbing with the action. The same hand then found the button of his jeans and slowly undid it, giving ample time for him to complain. When he arched his hips into what you were doing rather than shoving away, you went as far as undoing his fly, again getting no negative response. Content with that, you dragged the hand up his shirt out into usable ground again and turned his chin to you.  
"Wh-" he started but you cut him off by pressing your lips to his. At first he grunted at loss for anything else to do, stiffening for a few moments. When you didn't pull away and simply stared at him through both your two sets of shades, he finally eased and hesitantly brought a hand to the back of your head. You then incorporated movement into your lip lock, making the kiss start off slow. It was evident he did know what he was doing seeing as he managed to sync his lips to yours with little difficulty. You hummed lowly and half lidded your eyes, inhaling the familiar smell of your brother through your nose within a closeness you hadn't given much thought to before. Sure, you'd thought about fucking him before, but you never thought you'd actually get anywhere close to it. Now here you were, macking on him while his fingers played with your hair. He seemed to have his eyes closed tightly while his breathing became shallow. You assumed he was trying to imagine you were Jake, which you didn't really have a problem with. Only he would have to give you the right credit; Jake would never be able to do what you can.  
"Dirk," you pulled back a little to find he was panting lightly and had a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks. Even cuter.  
"Hmm...?" he opened his eyes and looked at you, unsure of what it was he was going to be told.  
"Tell me to stop if you're not down for sex," it was then that you made no further advances, watching and waiting for him to do something. He paled considerably and made the mouthings of a few words, although not forming them. If he were anyone else from school, you'd both already be naked, but you knew better than that in this situation. You'd have to see him nearly everyday for the next four years at least, and doing something you'd regret now would have it all fucked up for eternity. That shit's not cool. If you got his permission however, it would be less messy further down the line. He bit his bottom lip in thought for a few seconds, idly fiddling with the longer strands of hair on the back of your head. You leaned into this somewhat, it felt nice and was different to the harsh pulling on your scalp that you were used to.  
"I..." he hesitated again, the metaphorical cogs in his brain seeming to jam and create smoke that would seep out of his ears at any given second if he tried to think any harder. You remained patient though; you weren't in any real rush anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

A few minutes passed and his hand had dropped to your shoulder, pensively fiddling with the fabric of your shirt. Your own fingers toyed with the seams of his jeans, eyes not leaving Dirk while his own gaze remained downwards.  
"... Shit dude, I'm not down for that," he sighed, as if you'd be mad or disappointed. Pssh. This guy.  
"Alright," within an instant your hands were off of him, putting a space between his back and your chest. The look of genuine surprise on his face would have offended you if you were embracing your full dramatic self, but in that moment you just accepted it and stayed calm. Sure you both had half hard-ons, though you wanted to help him while sating your own wants, not turn him off this stuff completely. "Kinda glad you said no. Maybe don't take so long next time, some assholes out there would take advantage or not even ask. But you said no and I'm proud, I'd mush your cheeks and give you a gold star if that weren't weird and motherly. Hell, I'd be a great mom. Probably a wine mom milf crossover but whatever."  
"Thanks..." he hesitantly edged forward, hands on your leg between his for a moment's balance. Your upper thigh tensed some in complaint of losing his warmth while your hands reached behind you to make for a comfy position to be propped up in. Naturally your eyes wandered to the piece of ass still situated over your knee, the back leading up from it hunched forward faintly. You cocked your head, only for your non verbal question to be answered once Dirk got to his feet and dared to exit the room.  
"Where you goin'?" you called after the shorter blond.  
"Shower. I'm gonna play a round of don't-think-about-the-old-man-jizz-in-the-drain-while-jacking-one's-self-off," he answered quickly before venturing into the bathroom at the same speed, disappearing behind two doors. With a brief chuckle, you reclined back onto the bed. Might as well let your happy time wilt over the next three hours you wouldn't see your brother for.


	6. Chapter 6

Your name is Dirk Strider and we're looking at 2 o'clock, exactly 6 days after Dave enlightened you on the context of his side of the bargain for you tutoring him. Of course, you continued to go over his Science and watch him trying to figure out exam style questions, but no physical contact was made above the ordinary levels you engaged in as brothers. Your feelings on the matter were mixed. 90% of you was glad he didn't try again just yet - you did say no after all, and you may have taken for granted he's not exactly a manipulative person. Persuasive definitely, but even then he wasn't exercising it, which sort of struck you as odd. Whenever he wanted something, he'd find a way to awkwardly wedge himself into the equation and ramble on with a topic just about relevant to the situation until people just give up and let him do whatever. The only sense you could make of it was that he didn't specifically want you, more so to help you maybe? You couldn't blame him; societal norms brought about the idea that you were decently good looking but, while you came to accept that, you didn't exactly think of yourself as an Adonis. Dirk Strider was who you were and would always be, currently keeping your head down and getting your work done so that later on in life you could study Physics and Technology at university then get yourself a nice little apartment just off the edge of the city with a robotic rabbit companion named Sebastian, whom you'd gloat about your successes in the engineering industry to in confidence in order not to drive away your trusty best friend Roxy who irks very easily when you get big headed. In a perfect world, Jane would be your neighbour and ultimate sharer of your free time, and Jake... Well your fantasies would want him as your husband but that's enough for one day.  
The point being, you simply figured lovers or admirers would come and go. They did in everyone else's lives. You weren't a huge player of sports with a squared off jaw and biceps bigger than your brains, thus throngs of sexual advances weren't really your shtick. Not to mention your orientation. It didn't really have a label - you prefer to leave it that way - but you were attracted to guys, that's as far as that went. Meaning your selection was limited to begin with, then your interests and personality threw a metaphorical rubber band around that loose fistful of pipe cleaners to finish it off. Tight and stiffly fuzzy.  
All this talk had your head spinning, thus you figured it better to push it to one side for the time being. You had more important things to worry about that day, such as putting Operation English underway as Dave had dubbed it.  
The next class is History, another subject - among most - that you excel at. You tend not to study very hard for this one however, it simply sticks in your head once you read over the topic material a few times. Not to mention the delivery of the lessons is quite memorable. Ms. Marquise Serket is your History teacher and saying she's passionate about it is an understatement. One time she stood atop her desk then proceeded to leap onto the desk of a student in the front row whilst describing how the Spanish conquistadors fended off native peoples once they reached new lands. Needless to say, a complaint was filed. Eridan Ampora's finger was broken that day. Ms. Serket can't teach that section of the course herself any longer, a slideshow is presented instead.  
In this class, there is no seating plan, thus Jake would usually fling his books onto the two-seater table you occupied one side of. He's been one of your close friends for the last six years after all.  
Today is no different; you nestle your backside into the desk beside the middle window, a few moments pass and the lean noirett slinks down the aisle from the back row to plop down next to you.  
"Ahoy there!" he greets you with a toothy grin. "You're later than usual, pal."  
"Late? By a minute and a couple of nanoseconds maybe," you scoff faintly, watching him dump an armful of books onto the tabletop then turn a chair around so the back is towards you.  
"Likely so, but a minute and a couple of nanoseconds nonetheless. A bit disconcerting, hm?"

"Well, I'm sorry my sense of timing isn't half as immaculate as Dave's used to be. I've got more important issues to worry about. Frankly, I think you should start prioritising too," you mutter, propping your elbow up on the table with your cheek resting in your palm as you give him a plain look. He frowns at you, confused in an undeniably cute way. Shaking your head, you draw your free hand up to be level with his head of thick black hair and pluck a tiny paper airplane out of it. The idea of tousling those faintly wavy locks goes through your head but maybe not immediately, thus you go for dropping the messily folded scrap of stationery into his palm. Jake blinks once or twice then proceeds to snort out a laugh, crumpling up the now unimportant article to discard it.  
"Boy shitting howdy... your wit's as sharp as ever, I see," he flashes you a grin before tossing the ball directly into the bin a few meters across the room beside the door, muttering a soft "Kobe" in the process.

"I keep a strop at constant handy for occasions such as this. I give the razor that is my communicative style a quick once over of the leather every morning so I'm always deadly and never dull," you shrug off as if it's nothing new. Not a quip you rehearsed in the back of your brain for days on end. Jake English couldn't possibly bring up the same sort of retort every time he speaks to you, absolutely not. Alas, late as always, Ms. Serket struts into the classroom with a less than elegant clop clop of her favourite thick-soled brown leather boots.


End file.
